


Mazes

by VeraFey



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Namek Vegebul, Romance, Sexual Content, vegebul smut is the best smut, you down with OTP yea you know me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraFey/pseuds/VeraFey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was a labyrinth of secrets he could not unlock. She could conduct a scholarly thesis on the inner workings of his mind. They find comfort in each other’s intricacies in the midst of the war on Namek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Labyrinth

She was a labyrinth of secrets he could not unlock. An untamed beauty that he could not control. He despised the sight of her, or more so himself for not looking away. Away from her bright cerulean eyes that held deep secrets. Or, he was ashamed to admit, the curvature of her hips that called to him with each sway.  
  
Vegeta was a complicated man, who while not immune to his hormonal desires, was not easily enamored with the physical attributes of a female. What made this woman so special? She was annoying. She had no respect for authority, namely HIS authority.  He liked that she kept her idiotic crew in line – she put the fear of a god in them. What he did not like was whatever spell she casted to keep him docile in her presence.  
  
Freed from the shackles of one tyrant only to tumble into another prison. A prison of desire and emotion. He damned himself for being so weak. He should have killed her when he had the chance.  
  
He could only do the next best thing –murder her in bed.  
  
A spark between them ignited the second they met. Although she was openly gushing over Zarbon ( _what the fuck_ , he wondered) her attention was clearly focused more on him. He glanced her way for only a second to lambast her stupidity when he saw it.  
  
A mere flicker of…some feeling rendered foreign to him by a lifetime of suffering.  Of course that was furthest from his mind as he was getting his ass handed to him by Zarbon. But during the ordeal he managed to pocket that tiny flame in the back of his subconscious, and he would find himself turning to it every now and then.  
  
He would question, more from curiosity than concern, where she was and if she was still alive. Never actively looking for an answer, just finding a small comfort in that flame.  
  
Then he saw her again, and that spark oxidized in a full on explosion.  
  
She was…loud. Very loud. Between his own waves of pleasure he mentally checked for any approaching ki. At the octave this woman was howling at, he wouldn’t be surprised if freiza suddenly knocked down the door. Or that low class fool Kakarot and his stupid friends could be around, under the impression he was torturing her.  
  
His back rested against the plush headboard of Friezas massive bed. Silken sheets were ruined with the sweat of the two lovers. The prince figured the emperors master bedroom would make a perfect place for their lewd encounter. A perfect “fuck you” to the tyrant who murdered his people and stole his birthright.  
  
He let the woman take initial control, gave her the false sense of domination. In all honesty it was an attempt to keep his strength in check. He did not want to break the poor girls hips, at least not before he got his due. Bulma, however, was riding him so hard it was as a if she was hell bent on fracturing something of hers.  
  
His mouth and palms lavished her soft, round breasts, claiming every inch of her skin.  Her hands were fastened on either side of his broad shoulders - the vice-like grip unwittingly releasing years of tension his muscles held. Each cry she released became a message of submission to him. _I’m yours. Take me._  
  
He grabbed her forearms, gently but firmly, and broke her grip from him. Before she could react, he tucked his legs under and rocked forward, throwing her onto the mattress. He perched himself over her, and paused the motions for a minute to look over his prey.  
  
His gaze was returned by misty azure eyes, lost in her own passion.  
  
“My prince…” She cried softly.  
  
In a rare show of gentleness he moved his hand to her face and swept the sweat soaked hair from her face. She closed her eyes, chest heaving from exhaustion, as his fingers trailed down her features, along her jawline, down her exposed throat. He felt her tense up, reminded of whose hand this belonged to.  
  
His fingers continued their journey as they moved along her sternum, admiring her, squeezing her breasts, trickling down her abdomen.   
  
Both hands trailed down her waist and grabbed a hold of her hips. He rocked back and pulled her with him into the sitting position, allowing her on back on top. Steel eyes watched her begin to lose herself again as they quickened her pace. His hands fastened on her iliac crests, controlling the intensity as he thrust deeper into her core.  
  
She ran her slender fingers though his thick black hair and pulled his forehead to hers. Hungry lips met and started tearing at each other. Their fist kiss.  
  
He pressed deeper into her mouth, either out of hunger or desperation to shut her up. She grabbed him by the hair and broke their embrace, gasping for air. He felt her kissing his neck, running her tongue along his carotid. She hungrily devoured the salt glistening on his skin and moved up to his earlobe. In between her moans and grunts, she attempted to articulate words.  
  
She began whispering his name.  
  
The overload of senses - her sweet scent, her soft skin, her slick core, the sight of her drunken ecstasy, her glazed blue eyes, and now the sound of her begging for him- sent him over the edge. As his movements became faster her cries for him became louder. She threw her head back and gasped as he buried his face into her bosom, both reaching their breaking point. He rode her through her orgasm, as her pelvic spasms finally spilled him over the edge.  
  
~~Afterglow.~~  
  
They remained in their embrace, soaking up what had just happened. He kept his face hidden in her chest, too embarrassed to show his flushed face. She gently ran her long nails along his back, a comforting measure. He couldn’t admit to himself that he could stay in this moment for a lifetime and forget about the chaos brewing outside.  
  
He then lifts his head up once he worked up the courage to look at her.  
  
He felt her soft fingers brush away loose hair from his matted face. She makes a home in the space underneath his jaw and nuzzles him. “You were nice.”  
  
He snorted. “What an absurd thing to say.”  
  
Without a beat, she retorts, “Would you rather me say something like I love you?”  
  
His jaw tightens. He had no witty reply, no grand insult, nothing running through his mind except, what the fuck woman!  
  
She pulls away and studies his face. To the untrained eye Vegeta would have the same look of stoicism that he wore as he was taking one’s life. However, in their short time together Bulma had been able to note the subtle differences in his face that would pass as emotion. In this case, the muscle under his left eye was slightly twitching. This meant he was freaking out.  
  
A mischievous grin slowly creeps on to her lips. She is officially under his skin.  
  
“It’s been 30 seconds Princey, where’s you’re award winning insult?”  
  
Onyx eyes that were fixated on the right of the room aborted their mission of burning a hole in the wall and angrily darted to the feisty blunette sitting in front of him.  
  
“Quit saying idiotic things woman!”  
  
“Bul-ma. And you can do better than that.”  
  
“I can turn you into ash if that’s what you mean by better!”  
  
“Whatever. I’m tired.” Bulma pushed herself off of her now agitated bedmate and flung onto the silken mattress. She writhed into a full body stretch and let out a satisfied moan.  "Man. These sheets are amazing. Only the best for Lord Dreeza I guess.“  
  
"It’s Freiza,” the Sayian snapped back as he grabbed the violet flat sheet and cleaned himself off. “We should probably leave in case he gets back.”  
  
Bulma waived her hand in the air, “Forget it he’s not coming back.”  
  
He clenched his teeth. “And what makes you think that, ms "smartest woman on earth.”  
  
She laughed. “The dragon balls are gone and his men are all dead, what else could there be for him here?” She winked. “Unless he needs a nap.”  
  
He groaned. Why does she insist on arguing everything with him?  
  
“And, not that you’re wrong, but I told you I was the deadliest woman on earth.”  
  
She argues EVERYTHING with him! His jaw clenched tighter. Every interaction with this female had been the most intense battle of wits. He made empires fall, kings have trembled at his feet and earths strongest warriors are in fear of them. Yet this cerulean haired female refuses to bow to him, refuses to show her fear, and insists on coming out the dominant one. How stupid of her. How bold of her!  
  
How…very Sayian of her.  
  
The wheels in his obstinate mind starting turning at the concept. She could be the closest thing to female Sayian behavior he has experienced since childhood. Her comrades, physically stronger than she, cowered in his presence while she dared him to act on his empty threats. She was in a warrior in her own right. The uneasy feeling that kept him from killing her was his Sayian respect for her.  
  
He figured if he had the capacity for love, he would love her with his entire being. He would sing her praises, adorn her in the finest cloth, crush any man who dared look at her beauty. However, the reality of their lives, namely his, states that this can never happen. To bring her into his world would destroy her.  
  
To truly love her, he would have to stay away.  
  
Besides, she was aggravating in every sense of the word. His respect would suffice.  
  
His inner monologue was broken by a sudden force that slammed his back against the satin sheets. His bedmate leered over him, hands pressed against either shoulder. “Hello, are you in here?!” She asked, agitated.  
  
He gave zero indication of the turmoil in his mind. He didn’t even growl at her. He simply smirked, “I was just going back to that conversation. There’s a small possibility I misspoke.”  
  
He felt the soft pads of her fingers slide from either side of his jaw to his temples as she delicately cupped his face into her hands. He swore he could feel her piercing gaze stare right at him, as if the were trying to break into the walls he placed around his mind. He supposed he was her labyrinth as well.  
  
“You know, you’re not easy to read. I could do a scholarly thesis on the inner workings of your mind.”  
  
He swelled with pride at his correct assumption. “Hn. You’re quite a challenge yourself.”  
  
“Aw, thanks.”  
  
He sneered  "what makes you think that was a compliment?“  
  
A wink. "Because you like challenges. You’re Sayian right?”  
  
Damn. She’s starting to figure him out. While he was still knocking at the entrance she was already halfway into his maze.  
  
His mind became heavy as his body finally started to register the sudden wave of exhaustion. This bed is comfortable he thought. Way better then the dead Namekian grass that he had resorted to the past few days. He became too tired to continue the banter, and did not resist when the engineer rested her head on his chest and draped her arm over him. He mindlessly returned the embrace, slinking his arm over her back, holding her close. As he let sleep take him, she mumbled a question. He’s not sure what he answered, only aware of his drifting thought…  
  
Damn, she’s getting close.


	2. First Name Basis

  
  
“Vegeta?”  
  
“Hn.”  
  
Be honest with me. What would you do if I said I love you?  
  
She was setting herself up. She figured she would get a sneer, some insult, some way to shut off the conversation. What did he know about love anyway? He obviously grew up without any. He would say something predictable like "mind your business" or "nothing but a good lay." Bulma did not place much faith in men.  
  
There was a brief pause before he half heatedly mumbled "You...hn..."  
  
She raised an eyebrow.  
  
He mumbled something slightly coherent before drifting to sleep. She made out one word:  
  
Mine.  
  
Her heart jumped out of her chest. She could have sworn it was something similar to that. Sleep overtook her before her genius brain could analyze the meaning behind his strange words. As she drifted off, she pondered and appreciated the complexity of the partner she chose.  
  
\------  
  
Searing pain. Blood. So much blood. Fear.

 

These were the final agonizing hours of Bulma Briefs, the self proclaimed deadliest woman in the world. If she wasn't choking on her own blood, she would laugh at the irony of the situation. After spending her entire childhood chasing dragon balls with a wild monkey boy, pissing off evil corporations, being in the crosshairs of King Piccolo and surviving the grueling journey to Namek, her end would be the most anticlimactic. All it took was a random landslide to bring her down.

 

How lame was that? Fuck nature.

 

Bulma laid dying, broken on the ground. Fuck Krillin for leaving her out in the wilderness. Fuck Goku for being an alien. And especially, fuck that evil Saiyan Vegeta.

 

In her blurring vision she makes out a figure of short stature walking her way. He raises a hand to her.   
\------

  
Bulmas eyes opened as she gasped awake. It took her a moment to realize that she was no longer at the scene of her near demise. She was...in bed? In a luxurious bed! Not since leaving Earth had she felt so relaxed. She may as well have been floating on air.  
  
Raising her fingers, she gave her cheek a hard pinch, just to make sure she was in fact quite alive. Her other hand was trapped, she noticed. As the events of the past 24 hours came flooding back into her memory, her head snapped quickly to the left and received a shocking eyeful of the figure sleeping next to her.  
  
Shit! What did she do?  
  
And WHY?!  
  
Why were their hands still clasped together, fingers locked in intimacy? Why did he save her from near death and throw her in a freezing cold regeneration tank? Why did she, clad in nothing but a drying towel, come on to him, slowly creep her leg sexily against the doorway, blocking his exit?  
  
She wondered most of all why he accepted her ridiculous advances. Her core temperature rose as she remember the leather of his glove barely touching her leg, his fingers pressing deeper into her skin as he trailed up her thigh to --  
  
"SHIT!" She broke the grip of her unexpected lover as she clasped her mouth shut. Her eyes darted to Vegeta, afraid she woke him. Eyes remaining shut, he adjusted his shoulders, barely emoting a grunt, and laid back still.  
  
What will he do once he awakens she wondered. Will he kill her after having his fill? Or will he just get up and leave, without even a glance her will. The latter bothered her. She hated being used. She felt used by her friends for her intelligence, her money and felt used by her boyfriend for security.  
  
The knot in her gut grew tighter at the thought of Yamcha. She finally stopped to his level. She was a cheater. Even worse she cheated with the man who killed him. The reason that she was even on Namek, starving and alone. She wanted to hate him so badly.  
  
Why couldn't she just hate him?  
  
He saved her. More so, he actually took care of her. He treated her with more kindness and attention in the past half day then her childhood friends who left her to starve in the Namek tundra.  
  
Bulma felt the pads of his fingertips brush alone her cheek, wiping away some kind of moisture. She hasn't realized she was crying. Steel eyes looked at her, no expression. She took notice how soft his hands were for a warrior.  
  
"Hurt?"  
  
She shook her head. "Just...tired."  
  
He rolled over her as she instinctively laid back down, the sensation of the cooled sheets causing her to shiver. He instantly loomed over her, hands on either side of her body. She felt trapped underneath him. His eyes scanned her body up and down, as if he was studying her. She suddenly felt the urge to cover up.  
  
"You're tense."  
  
"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."  
  
He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. "I thought I was nice."  
  
"It's no that. I have someone waiting for me back home."  
  
"Oh?” He nipped at her earlobe. “So where is he now."  
  
Her breath quickened. You killed him"  
  
"Hm. Did I now? Which one was he again?"  
  
Bulma pushed him off of her and sat straight up, fuming. "Seriously, you don't remember?"  
  
Vegeta scoffed, irritated at the loss of contact. "How would I know such a thing?" Her red faced amused him.  
"Let me guess. Was he the bald triclops?"  
  
"No!"  
  
His nose scrunched. "Surely it's not the Namek"  
  
"No!"  
  
His lips curled in horror. "Baldy?"  
  
"NO! You idiot!! He had long curly black hair and had a scar on the side of his face. He was wearing the same orange gi as Goku!"  
  
It really took him a minute. Then it hit him, and it took every ounce of Saiyan strength to curb his laughter. He failed, and starting howling.  
  
"What's so funny, Asshole!"  
  
"He was the one who got wasted by the Saibamen." He regained his composure somewhat. "Now that is pathetic."  
  
He caught the delicate hand that was aiming straight for his face. He gave her a look that said "Seriously?" and continued,  
  
"I massacred those things when I was younger than Kakarot's child. Why in hell would you chose such a weak man as a mate?"  
  
"Because I love him!" She said as matter of factly.  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Again with the love thing? Honestly the level of sentimentality you Earthlings hold onto is bizarre. How the hell can a race thrive on such a weak concept?"  
  
"Strength and power isn't everything, Princey!"  
  
"Strength is everything. But a woman of your level wouldn't understand," He teased her, "Well this weak male must have some redeeming qualities. A better lover than me?"  
  
Her azure eyes found a spot on the bed to transfix upon. Of course he wasn't. He began to prod against his better judgement, starting to become genuinely curious. "Loyal as a pathetic lapdog?"  
  
A long sigh. "Actually...I caught him with another woman right before he died."  
  
He massaged his temples. "Woman, what is wrong with you."  
  
"Love."  
  
"And look where it got you. Stranded on a deserted planet crying over a weak male who was too busy banging whores. You're pathetic."  
  
"Asshole!" She shrieked, throwing a pillow at his head. "Shut up! You think just because you dug me out of some stupid landslide that you can treat me however you want?!"  
  
Was he smirking? Was he toying with her?!  
  
Heat crept up her face as embarrassment overtook her. She couldn't believe she just had sex with this homocidal prick. What's worse was she enjoyed it. Fuck, he was so good. Her pelvic muscles tightened at the thought of their tryst. Why did she have the worst luck with men?  
  
In a motion so swift Bulma didn't register, the prince gripped both her wrists. He was suddenly over her, pinning her to the bed. A wicked smile had escaped his lips. His onyx eyes were now full of hunger, like a predator about to devour his prey.  
  
He leaned in and pressed his lips against her moist cheek. Fuck, when did she start crying again? Another thing for him to mock her over. She tried to ignore the shivers traveling down her spine as he kissed her tears away.  
  
His lips trailed along her face, stopping to to nip at her earlobe. "Asshole." She moaned. His hands began roaming about her body, massaging her breasts. One hand traveled down the swell of her ass, fingers stopping at the entrance of her lips.  
  
Fuck she was so wet. Asshole.  
  
"You are a woman," he growled, "who should be worshipped. You're wasting your intelligence on these morons."  
  
No shit Sherlock. She let out a heavy sigh. Finally a man who appreciates her genius - of course it would be a homicidal alien who killed her boyfriend.  
  
He pressed his lips against hers, nipping at her lower lip. "How would you like to be worshipped, Woman."  
  
Oh, fuck him. His antics have left her body wanting, starved, in need of any kind of release. She wanted him to savor every inch of her, make her scream like earlier. She wanted him to say her name as he came into her. She wanted him to stay with her, to never leave her side. She wanted to believe that they could have something outside this safe haven they created for each other.  
Maybe he'll eat her pussy. Yamcha would never.  
  
She ran her fingers through his thick, wild hair and pulled him away. She looked at his eyes.  
  
"Kiss me?" She whispered. "Down there?"  
  
He complied to her request with a hungry growl. His mouth dove into her body starting at the nape of her neck, one of her most sensitive areas. She involuntary arched her back and cried out in pleasure has he continued his journey down, stoping to enjoy her taut nipples.  
  
He left a trail of soft kisses down her belly, stopping when he reached his destination. Her muscles tensed in anticipation. She brought her hips foward, begging for him to please her.  
  
The crude smirk on his face alone theatened to short circuit her brain. Asshole, she thought. He's enjoying this more than me. Her lips curled into a smile as his head bowed down, planting kisses on her outer thighs. The heat in her core rose higher with every touch - the touch of his palms as he spread her legs apart threatened to set her on fire. Her breath quickened into tiny pants as her entire body aches for his touch, for his mouth.  
  
What the hell was he waiting for?  
  
She saw him slowly spread her lips, studying the folds inside. The fuck was he doing, reading it? Did he not know what a vagina looked like?  
  
She suddenly felt very insecure. What did Saiyan women look like? Was he grossed out by her? She tried to close her legs.  
  
"You don't like it?" She asked embarrassed.  
  
He responsed with a wicked smile and lowered his head. He began licking and nipping at her outer lips, then teasing her pink folds, nearly sending her over the edge. Then he dove into her, his tongue darting in and out of her enterance. A low, hungry moan escaped him as his devoured her.  
  
"Ah! Ah..."  
  
Asshole. Fucking sexy asshole. She never dreamed such bliss could happen. His roaming hands taught her otherwise. She felt her body jerk in response to his thumb grazing over her clit. Vegeta noted her response and wickedly applied pressure to the swollen nub.  
  
She cried out uncontrollably. Her entire core was on fire. What was this man doing to her? She should be embarrassed to be forced in such a submissive state. However, the thought of being completely his to take was sending her into an orgasmic tailspin.  
  
She wanted to be his.  
  
Her hips bucked in slow motion as he firmly massaged her swollen bud. Her moans became harder and louder, the rythmic motion of his touch about ready to undo her. The heat rose from her clit and became hotter, hotter until he stopped.  
  
She gasped in frustration, and lifted her head to glare at the evil smirking Saiyan. Asshole!  
  
A split second later, he dove back in, his tongue replacing his fingers. She gasped and screamed and swore as he sucked her clit, slowly at first, then harder in rhythmic motion. His fingers delved into her entrance, rubbing her g-spot.  
  
Tears brimmed her eyes as she grew tighter, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. She would die if she waiting any longer. His tongue flicked her clit and sent a spark that traveled through her nervous system, triggering an explosion.  
  
She desperately grabbed on to the bedsheets and let out a primal scream, drowning in her own sensation. Vs fingers were still inside her, coaxing her through her climax. She felt him lift her with his free hand into his lap, clinging to her trembling body.  
  
She found herself wrapped in his massive arms as she was coming down from her orgasm. She hadn't felt like this in years - relaxed, serene, secure. She figured the same of him. She wondered if he had ever made intense love like this. Had he touched anyone else like that?. Who knew such destructive hands could be this soft?  
  
Her friends were going to be pissed. But she didn't care.  
  
She wrapped her hands in his hair and pulled him in for a deep kiss. She runs her tongue alongside his, tasting herself in him. He half heartedly pulled her away and grunted softly - "Was that enough pleasure for you, woman."  
  
"Yes," she purred, running her fingers down his defined abs. The feel of his hard muscles sends her brain back on overload. This man is perfect. She grasped his erection, fingers sliding up and down his length. She smirked when he moaned.  
  
She swung her leg on one side, mounting him. "How shall I please you, my prince." She whispered against his lips as she guided his cock towards her, teasing the tip with her entrance. He gasped, grabbing each side of her hips. Obsedian eyes stared into her contrasting deep blue pools.  
  
"Be mine." He demanded as he plunged into her. "Only mine." She moans as her heightened senses have returned. Her hips have picked up a rhythm as she's fucking him, his fingers lost in her messy aqua hair as she grinds him slowly, increasing the pace with each thrust. She pressed her forehead agasint his, her hot breath teasing his lips.

 

“I'm yours, my Prince.” She whispered. “All yours”  
  
He quickly took over, spinning her such that her back is to him. He wraps an arm around her stomach, keeping her close. As he plunged back inside her she cries out in pleasure.   
  
He fucks her deeper, harder than last time. His body is pressed hard against hers, his lips fastened on her gentle neck. She reaches that edge again, and cries out when he sinks his teeth in her, sucking the wounded flesh. The pain sends shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through her body, and she comes, hard. Her tight spasms squeezes his cock and he bites her neck tighter as he releases into her.  
  
They collapsed onto the silken sheets, gasping, speechless. Basking in afterglow. Bulma paid no mind to the throbbing pain in her neck. She leaned into his embrace as he tightens his hold on her. She can feel his heartbeat pounding in her back, surprisingly in time with hers.  
  
Here, they are the same. No Earthling or Saiyan, villain or damsel. In this place, they are man and woman. They are human. And something tells her that this won't be the last time they will see each other.  
  
Vegeta pulled her exhausted body close to him, kissing the wound he made on her neck. "Bulma." He whispered against her skin. "My Bulma."  
  
She brings their entwined hands to her lips, kissing his fingertips. "My Vegeta." She responds.  
  
At least now they were on a first name basis.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! It was meant to be a oneshot, but I may continue it. I appreciate the feedback, as I'm just getting back in the writing game. This was also my first lemon.


End file.
